


The Run

by mickeylovesian



Series: The Coming Wave [6]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 12:56:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeylovesian/pseuds/mickeylovesian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt on tumblr: mickey needs to make a run out of town and he drags ian along with him. So its like this totally masculine thing (a drug run with potential for trouble) but the closest they will get to a getaway but neither of them wants to point it out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Run

“Meet me at field.” Ian stared at the text message from Mickey. It was 11:00 on a Tuesday night and they had just seen each other a few hours earlier. Mickey had kicked him out of the house around 7 saying his brothers would be coming home and he didn’t want to have to explain why he was there without Mandy. Despite the fact that they had been more open with their friendship since Mandy’s birthday, even going as far as to hang out with Iggy one time, Mickey was still holding back.

“Why?” Ian typed into the phone.

“Just do it Gallagher.”

Ten minutes later Ian showed up at the baseball field. In the past two weeks the temperature had dropped significantly; fall was coming to the Southside. He looked to the dugouts but could not see Mickey. He heard a car door slam, turned his head and saw Mickey getting out of a beat up Camry. 

“Where’d you get the car?”

“Halsted and 46th,” he said lighting a cigarette.

“You stole it from the neighborhood?” Ian asked incredulously. While he wasn’t surprised about Mickey stealing the car, he had never expected him to be so stupid as to steal one from their own neighborhood. Mickey laughed. 

“Chill man,” he said taking a drag. “It’s Tony’s. He’s letting me borrow it.”

“For what?”

“Well Iggy is totally fucked up tonight and he was supposed to go on a run out to Detroit to deliver some money, so I have to go in his place.”

“So what? Called me for a quick fuck before you go?”

“I mean, if you’re offering,” Mickey said raising his eyebrows. Ian scowled. “Nah man. I was wondering if you wanted to join.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, I need someone to keep me awake for eight hours,” Mickey said. He tried to play it cool, but Ian knew it wasn’t just about that. He knew Mickey enjoyed his company, even if he could only truly admit it when he was fucked up.

“What if we get caught?”

“Then we’re fucked,” Mickey said. “But it will be fun.”

“Ok,” Ian said. He knew going with him could end badly, but the sense of danger only seemed to entice him more. “But I get to control the radio.”

“Fuck that,” Mickey said, heading back to the car. Ian followed him and got in the passenger seat. “Buckle up firecrotch.”

Two hours into the trip they had run out of Tony’s limited supply of CDs that they could both agree on so they had turned the radio on. Despite his earlier refusal, Mickey actually did let Ian choose the station, although they had driven out of range of Chicago stations a while ago. 

Ian hadn’t expected Mickey to make conversation as easily as he did, but he figured that being stuck in a car with someone for eight hours round trip was bound to lead to some talking. They had even played a few road games, at Mickey’s suggestion. They had started with the license plate game, but as the night wore on and with fewer cars on the road they had moved on to the picnic game. 

“What the fuck is the picnic game?” Mickey had asked.

“You go through the alphabet and name something that you would bring on a picnic that starts with that letter. And you have to list what the other person said.”

“It’s just the two of us.”

“So?”

“Fine.”

“Ok. I’m going on a picnic and I’m bringing apples.”

“I’m going on a picnic and I’m bringing apples and,” he thought about it. “Blunts.”

“Mickey”

“What? If you’re dragging me on a fucking gay ass picnic I definitely need to be high.”

“Fine. I’m going on a picnic and I’m bringing apples, blunts and, caviar.”

“Oh you fancy huh? Alright, I’m going on a picnic and…”

They went through the alphabet, Mickey bringing as many drugs as the letters would allow. The radio had faded out and neither one of them had changed it. With the windows rolled down and both of them chain smoking, however, even the static couldn’t bring Ian’s mood down. Staring out the window at the endless stretch of I-94 ahead of them, Ian thought about how he could get used to this. The two of them on the open road, making runs or simply running away.

He had thought about it a lot in the past few months; the two of them packing up the car and leaving the Southside in the rearview mirror. How he wished they could just forget everything; Terry, Svetlana, the stigma that faced them on every corner. They could go someplace where they wouldn’t have to worry about people finding out about them. He didn’t need to be able to walk down the street holding Mickey’s hand, or kissing him in public, but the thought of it just being ok, if he wanted to, was nice. 

Sometimes he even thought about suggesting it to Mickey. In his head he would suggest California, to which Mickey would say was too gay. Every place Ian would suggest Mickey would refuse, until it got to the point where they just got in the car and drove and never stopped. They could see the whole country for all Ian cared, as long as they were together. Maybe one day he would actually bring it up. 

Mickey pulled off at a rest stop. “I gotta piss so bad.”

“Get me something to eat?”

“Get it yourself fucktard,” Mickey said.

“Never mind, not that hungry anyway,” Ian said. Mickey got out of the car and Ian took out his phone. There was a text from Mandy.

“be careful” was all it said. He had told her where he was going. He knew she wanted to say more, just like Lip always did. But they both knew that Mickey and their growing relationship was a subject Ian had decided to keep to himself. It was nice to have the support, more so from Mandy than Lip, but if he had learned anything over the past few months, it was that some things other people will never understand. 

Ten minutes later Mickey got back in the car, a bag of McDonalds in his hands. “It was the only thing open. I got you nugs and a Sprite.” Ian couldn’t help the huge smile that grew across his face. They had stopped at McDonalds a few months earlier, and although he had mentioned it, he had never expected Mickey to remember that chicken nuggets and sprite were his favorite.

“Thanks Mick.”

“Whatever.” As Ian opened the bag, he snuck a side look at Mickey, who was sticking a straw in his own Dr. Pepper. He smiled to himself and stared out the window. He could definitely get used to this.

“Do you want me to drive home?” Ian asked. It was 4 in the morning and Mickey had just returned to the car from delivering the money. He was happy to be on the way home, especially now that the money was out of the car. When he had first invited Ian along, he had been sure he would have refused. When he had agreed, he had been excited, but then angry at himself. Here he was putting someone he cared about in danger just by being in the same car as him. He would never have forgiven himself if they had been caught with the money. He was resigned to the fact that he most likely hadn’t seen the end of his relationship with the police, but he didn’t want Ian to get in trouble. Not like he would say anything though. 

“Nah, I can make it,” Mickey said. “Plus, Tony would kill me if I let anyone else drive.”

“We could always find a motel to get some sleep,” Ian suggested. The thought of spending the night in a bed with Ian excited and scared the shit out of Mickey at the same time. They had only shared a bed once before, and Mickey remembered all too well how that had ended. No matter how badly he may want to try again, the recurring nightmare of Terry pushed the thought away. He looked at Ian out of the corner of his eye; he looked genuinely concerned over Mickey’s ability to drive the next four hours home.

“Nah, I’ll pick up a Red Bull. It’s all good,” Mickey said starting the car. 

“Those things are so bad for you,” Ian said. 

“out of all the shit I do, I think Red Bull might be the healthiest. I could do a few lines of blow if you would rather. Or pop an Addy,” Mickey suggested.

“No, Red Bull is fine,” Ian said and Mickey smiled. He knew Ian wasn’t keen on the harder drugs. While they might do a few lines here or there together, Ian often made comments about how often Mickey did coke or other drugs. It annoyed the shit out of him most of the time, but there were the rare few moments he was happy someone was looking out for him. 

“Ok then,” he said.

They drove in silence for a few miles. “We could always play another game,” Ian said.

“I can’t handle another picnic. It was hard enough the first time,” Mickey said, lighting another cigarette. Between the two of them they had smoked two packs on the way to Detroit. “Why don’t you roll a joint?”

“Smoking in the car always makes me fall asleep,” Ian said.

“That’s fine, just roll it.”

True to his word, twenty minutes after the second joint Ian fell asleep. Mickey turned down the radio and although he tried to stay focused on the road he couldn’t help but sneak glances at Ian. He had reclined the seat; his mouth was slightly open and he was snoring softly. Nothing like Svetlana, Mickey thought. He saw Ian’s closed eyes flutter and he wondered what he was dreaming about. Mickey knew what he dreamed about every night and he wondered if Ian did the same.

He had lied to him; Iggy hadn’t been too fucked up. In fact, it was Mickey who had offered to go and refused Iggy’s company. At the time he had just done it on impulse, but looking back he was glad he did. Spending time with Ian away from the Southside was something he wanted more than anything else. Maybe if they got away from it all it would be easier for him to be honest with himself, and Ian.

As he stared at the open stretch of road ahead of them he thought about what would happen if he just kept driving. What if he passed Chicago and didn’t stop? Where would they end up? Could they ever find a place where they could truly be free with one another?

He thought of Svetlana at home and his father in prison. His marriage would be ending around the same time his father could be getting out. If his father didn’t fuck up and got out, would he actually have the balls to sign the divorce papers? He knew it would be much easier to just leave and avoid it all. 

How often he thought about making his escape, with Ian at his side, he never truly admitted to himself. He knew Ian would never go for it; could never leave his family behind to run away with him. And he knew deep down that even a new city wouldn’t make him any braver; wouldn’t allow him to say the words he had been working on for almost a year now. He knew that when he finally said it, it would have to be on the Southside. He owed Ian that much. 

Still, he couldn’t help but picture them in California, on a sunny beach, as gay as that might be, or in New York, the tall buildings looming over them, or in Arizona, finally seeing the Grand Canyon, something his mother had promised him before killing herself. 

They could go anywhere, and maybe one day they would, but for now, Chicago was calling them home, and as long as they were together in this car, Mickey was ok with that.

Ian stirred and opened his eyes. The clock read 7 am. “Some co-pilot I am. Sorry I fell asleep,” he said to Mickey.

Mickey looked over at him and smiled. “It’s fine. Go back to sleep. We’re almost home.”


End file.
